The start of a serious medical week. Today, we went to see the lovely Macmillan doctor. This is an ongoing keeping in touch is-there-anything-we-can-help-with kind of thing. She is knowledgeable, easy to talk to, and has already tweaked the drugs I am taking, with good results. I also had a keeping in touch session with the nice Occupational Health lady from work.
Tomorrow is pre-chemo. This is a blood test, x-ray, and talk with Doctor G. I will tell him about (although I am sure he already knows) my admission to the ward following the first session of chemo. Perhaps he will change something - the anti-sickness drugs, the amount of drugs they give me at chemo?
As an aside, before the third chemotherapy session, I will have a CT scan to check what effect the chemotherapy is having on the tumour(s). The first CT scan involved being passed through what looked like a big doughnut while warm iodine was pumped into me. This was extremely odd for two reasons - 1) it made my feet tingle and 2) for about 5 seconds I thought I was going to wet myself. Afterwards, the nurse told me this is entirely normal, although when I asked him if he had ever had warm iodine pumped through him, he gave me a funny look, murmured "no", then took a keen interest in something on the other side of the ward. Note to self - don't get lippy.
Then Wednesday is chemo itself - Chemo II, Chemo:Judgement Day, Chemo Returns (etc etc). This involves a line in the arm (cannula), lots and lots of "Clear Fluids" (I think this means water) to flush my system and keep my kidneys working, and two drugs called Cisplatin and Pemetrexed (details here). Cisplatin is apparently made from platinum (according to T, who knows about "this sort of thing"). The more time goes on, the more I am becoming a burden on the state. Finally! Wednesday will be an all day affair - from 8.30 til 4 or 5, so it gets a little boring.
The big positive from the first cycle - ignoring the throwing up and drugs-in-the-bum thing - was that I feel like the symptoms eased, certainly for at least ten days. The cough and pain in the right side were certainly better. And since I left hospital, I have felt - well, if not great, if not even good, then ok, as well as can be expected. I still feel tired, and - like an old man - benefit from a nap in the afternoon. But right now, I'll take "as well as can be expected". I'll take it all day long.
In other news, I am reading "Adrian Mole - The Prostrate Years". Perhaps I should have guessed from the title that he gets (prostrate) cancer. Argh!
Tomorrow is pre-chemo. This is a blood test, x-ray, and talk with Doctor G. I will tell him about (although I am sure he already knows) my admission to the ward following the first session of chemo. Perhaps he will change something - the anti-sickness drugs, the amount of drugs they give me at chemo?
As an aside, before the third chemotherapy session, I will have a CT scan to check what effect the chemotherapy is having on the tumour(s). The first CT scan involved being passed through what looked like a big doughnut while warm iodine was pumped into me. This was extremely odd for two reasons - 1) it made my feet tingle and 2) for about 5 seconds I thought I was going to wet myself. Afterwards, the nurse told me this is entirely normal, although when I asked him if he had ever had warm iodine pumped through him, he gave me a funny look, murmured "no", then took a keen interest in something on the other side of the ward. Note to self - don't get lippy.
Then Wednesday is chemo itself - Chemo II, Chemo:Judgement Day, Chemo Returns (etc etc). This involves a line in the arm (cannula), lots and lots of "Clear Fluids" (I think this means water) to flush my system and keep my kidneys working, and two drugs called Cisplatin and Pemetrexed (details here). Cisplatin is apparently made from platinum (according to T, who knows about "this sort of thing"). The more time goes on, the more I am becoming a burden on the state. Finally! Wednesday will be an all day affair - from 8.30 til 4 or 5, so it gets a little boring.
The big positive from the first cycle - ignoring the throwing up and drugs-in-the-bum thing - was that I feel like the symptoms eased, certainly for at least ten days. The cough and pain in the right side were certainly better. And since I left hospital, I have felt - well, if not great, if not even good, then ok, as well as can be expected. I still feel tired, and - like an old man - benefit from a nap in the afternoon. But right now, I'll take "as well as can be expected". I'll take it all day long.
In other news, I am reading "Adrian Mole - The Prostrate Years". Perhaps I should have guessed from the title that he gets (prostrate) cancer. Argh!
